


War Dogs

by Cattraine



Series: War Dogs [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Feral Behavior, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattraine/pseuds/Cattraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They pulled the bullet-ridden Camaro out of the ocean down by the docks... (Feral Danny. Futuristic AU. Almost apocalyptic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

They pulled the bullet-ridden Camaro out of the ocean down by the docks. The windshield was shattered and Max later found traces of Danny’s blood on the upholstery. They never found a body and when Steve, Chin and Kono dove and searched the area all they found was Danny’s service revolver still in its holster and his badge on the sandy bottom. It took a year and a half before Steve reluctantly forced himself to face the fact that his partner was dead.

Attending the memorial service while holding a sobbing Gracie’s hand nearly killed him. He had to force himself not to return to active duty—to run. But he had promised Danny to always be there for Grace and he kept that promise. His job became nothing more than a daily grind, a reason to get up, punctuated with adrenaline-fueled violence. He missed his whirlwind of a loud, opinionated, stubborn partner to a degree that shocked him. There was a Danny-sized hole in his life and nothing could fill that aching void. Steve had lost comrades before, but this was Danny. They had been close and getting cautiously closer, content to take their time—thinking that they had time to do this thing right.

He and the team searched for months trying to find Danny’s killer, but came up with nothing. No one had seen anything, heard anything or was willing to talk. Finally, they reluctantly laid the case aside and moved on. It killed Steve to think of Danny’s body forever lost in the sea. He had nightmares of swimming underwater and seeing Danny floating ahead, his body twisting languorously in the current, just out of reach.

The tsunamis hit shortly after that, the tides came in and didn’t go back out for a very long time. Hawaii was a disaster area. They had almost no aid from the government on the mainland, which was dealing with what would eventually be called End Days, or simply the Disasters. Massive earthquakes in California, volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest, tornadoes in the heartland, killer hurricanes along the east and Gulf coasts. All followed by brutally cold winters, followed in turn by cycles of killer flu viruses. Europe and Asia suffered much of the same. Governments everywhere were in chaos. Fortunately, Hawaii had the Naval base and ships to rely on for aid and protection.

Still, for over two years Hawaii was under martial law. When things settled, the Sovereign State of Hawaii was one of the few democratic states left. Under Governor Jameson’s direction, it was a small nation of its own—backed by McGarrett and 5-0, HPD, and the remaining military bases. They pulled together and dealt with would be incursions from potential invaders, Asian pacific pirates and slavers with brutal efficiency that soon earned Hawaii a reputation of self-autonomy.

This new world was one that had been pared to the bone. To seemingly top off the disasters, what remained of the US had to deal with outbreaks of a mutated bio-weapon. A virus that everyone simply called Viral Z—because that was what you became if infected; a shambling, walking corpse intent on spreading the disease. Hawaii quarantined itself and kept clean of the virus. No ship or plane landed without thorough inspection and decontamination. Life was harder now in paradise, but the people were survivors.

McGarrett was older now. Leaner now, his body honed with a rigorous exercise routine, with more gray in his close-cropped hair. He was colder too, especially since Rachel had taken Gracie back to England after Stan’s death. He ran 5-0 with an iron fist and despite the fact that he had more task force members and resources than before-- he never warmed up to the new guys. No one could or would ever replace Danny.

The new men respected him, but they didn’t like him much. It was McGarrett’s way or the highway. Still, 5-0 had finally gained the love and respect of the people of Hawaii, because they had had a bitter taste of exactly what 5-0 stood between them against, and now H5-0 could do no wrong.

Then one day, a Pan-Pacific Interpol agent walked into 5-0’s offices with something to show Steve. Liam Murphy had been on the trail of a particular slaver before the Disasters struck. Viktor Hesse, along with his brother Anton, dabbled in gunrunning, human trafficking and illegal gambling. His specialty though was cage fighting. Humans forced to fight to the death while the wealthy bet on the outcome.

He had been impossible to catch, because they could never discover the exact location of the fights. Now Liam had finally learned that they were held on an oil tanker, one that moved constantly, supposedly ferrying its innocuous cargo back and forth among various ports of call. That tanker was due to reach Hawaiian waters within a week and Liam badly needed 5-0 and the Navy's help to finally take them down because Interpol’s resources were stretched thin in this part of the world.


	2. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander McGarrett welcomed him with a firm handshake and introduced him to the core members of his team, Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua, and Jenna Kaye, and invited him to take a seat in the War Room. Murphy got the impression that the commander of Hawaii’s elite task force more than earned his nickname of the Ironman.

Commander McGarrett welcomed him with a firm handshake and introduced him to the core members of his team, Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua, and Jenna Kaye, and invited him to take a seat in the War Room. Murphy got the impression that the commander of Hawaii’s elite task force more than earned his nickname of the Ironman. Liam blinked at the impressive tech, the flashing screens, more than a bit envious. He seldom saw such lovingly maintained computer equipment now. A lot of tech had been lost in the Disasters, and it was guarded jealously, because it was difficult and expensive to replace.

Quickly he explained the reason he was there, laying on every ounce of his Irish charm. He was surprised and relieved when there was zero squabbling over jurisdiction or credit for the arrests. McGarrett, he realized, didn’t give a damn who racked up the kudos as long as the scum on the tanker never set foot on his islands. He also got the impression that the good Commander would be quite satisfied with torpedoing the tanker and being done with the whole mess and that only the fact that there were innocents aboard kept him from doing so.

Hastily Liam slid a flash drive into the table port and provided the blueprints and surveillance photographs of the tanker and crew, noting with satisfaction that they all paid close unblinking attention. Kaye was scribbling notes of her own and impressed, he realized the others were memorizing the information as they watched the scans pop up on the screen. Finally, to wind the briefing up and impress upon them the importance of the operation, he produced a second flash drive with a flourish and popped it into a port, then tapped the menu to bring up the vid.

“I thought you should see exactly what we’re dealing with here. This is a copy of the latest preview disk that Hesse sends out to his regular clients. It consists of ‘trailers’ of past fights to whet their bloody appetites.”

He stood back and watched their faces as they watched the clips on the vid that flashed up on the screen. Both McGarrett and Kelly’s faces were impassive, but Kalakaua and Kaye were clearly shocked and sickened. The clips were set to flashy Cantonese music with a breathy, enthusiastic voice-over extolling what exotic amusements the patrons could look forward to on the next fight night.

The first montage of clips was the usual brutal fare—dogs tearing savagely at each other, men testing their reflexes against cobras, men kickboxing and pounding each other’s heads into bloody pulp-- which gradually took a turn for the worse. A young man, barely more than a boy, eyes wide with terror, was thrown unarmed into a pit and dogs set on him. A huge, tattooed man viciously snapped another’s neck, dropped the corpse and raised victorious fists to the cheering crowd, a fight where the winner methodically beat his opponent to the floor, then callously and brutally raped him while the spectators roared approval.

It was the last clip that had Murphy blinking in surprise as McGarrett suddenly surged up on his feet, hands clenched hard on the edge of the table. Murphy looked up at the screen. It was a closed cage match and the man facing off against a jacked-up bruiser twice his size was stocky and blond. The pair clashed together and blood spurted and Murphy saw they were fighting with punch knives. When they reeled apart, he caught a glimpse of the blond man’s blood-streaked, snarling face. McGarrett’s hand flashed out and he froze the scene.

***********************************

McGarrett stared. Despite the vivid scars across his jaw and the close-clipped hair it was unmistakably Danny. He was dressed in torn gray shorts, and worst of all, a tight metal shock collar. Steve heard Kono gasp aloud and Chin curse and he was unaware of the inarticulate growl that rose from his own throat. He stabbed at the table top, hoping for more, but the montage flickered and ended.

“Where? When was that last clip taken?”

Steve had Murphy by the throat, and slammed against the wall, snarling in the man’s startled face, while Chin was suddenly bent over the table, hands moving at warp speed while he analyzed that particular clip and enlarged scenes to get a look at Danny and his surroundings.

“Which one, the last? Macau, I think. That fight was off the coast of Macau three months ago…”

McGarrett unceremoniously dropped him once he had his info and made a beeline back to the tech table, where he hovered at Kelly’s elbow.

Kaye helped Liam up, murmuring apologies and that was how Murphy learned that the blond fighter was McGarrett’s missing partner. He rubbed his bruised throat ruefully and watched as the Commander stayed riveted to the table, eyes on Kelly’s flying fingers as Kelly and Kalakaua quickly analyzed every millimeter of the video clip containing their missing team member. Kelly played a portion of the audio back and nodded at his boss.

“Sounds like Danny is a returning favorite, a big money fighter. The announcer refers to him as _Guilao_ , or Ghost Guy.”

McGarrett stood, one hand covering his mouth, the other clamped hard on Kelly’s shoulder, eyes locked on the frozen image of the blond. The compact, muscled body was frozen in mid-action, one well-muscled arm thrusting the blade up under his opponent’s ribcage.

Murphy realized that the man’s eyes were bright with tears. He cleared his throat anyway, because he had to be pragmatic. When they finally turned their attention back to him, he spoke as gently as he could.

“Your friend will have been in a few more fights by now. The tanker stopped at Manila, Saipan and the Marshall Islands. He may not…”

McGarrett gave a rude snort and barked out a sound that was half sob, half laugh, interrupting him.

“Danno survived a hit, the Disasters and almost five years away from us. He’s alive.”

McGarrett spoke with absolute confidence, then turned to his team, and his brilliant smile totally transformed his face. Murphy could see the expressions of shock on the faces of the other team members in the outer office through the glass walls as they stared at their boss. They acted like they had never seen the man smile before.

“Danno! Danny’s alive! And we’re going to get him back.”

His core team surrounded him, smiling and laughing, and Murphy couldn’t bring himself to naysay them. Or to point out that the stables of fighters were systematically broken down mentally and physically and rebuilt, and were often controlled with torture and drugs. That they sometimes had their DNA tampered with to make them stronger and faster, that the man they knew would most certainly not be the man they brought home, even if he was still alive.

***********************************

He knows he’s dying.

He can feel his life pump out a little more with every heartbeat. Snow whines softly and nudges his face and he huddles closer to her big body, face buried in her warm, glossy hide. He shivers against the cold metal of the floor, his thin nest of ragged blankets not adequate to keep the chill away. The blade of his last opponent was doctored—probably with an anticoagulant derived from cobra venom, something to make sure he suffers while he bleeds.

Still he puts his back to the wall and snarls and flashes his fangs if any of the so-called medics try to get close enough to examine him. They won’t try too hard; know he will kill them if he can. He prefers to lick his own wounds, likes the iron tang of blood on his tongue. He closes his eyes again. Maybe he will dream of the warm place with the clear blue water and the man with the soft eyes again. The fragmented dreams are all he has of Before. His blond head droops and he licks dry lips. It won’t be long now.

Snow whines and licks his face gently.

***********************************

The entire operation took place with a swift surgical precision that Liam could only stand back and admire. McGarrett had full control of the entire op and Liam wasn’t too surprised when the man suited up and led the team of SEALs in himself. The 5-0 team was back up and there was an entire naval battle ship, complete with helicopters, waiting to pick up the wounded, the captive and the prisoners.

Murphy had to admire the Commander’s iron control, because even he can see how tightly the man is wired. He practically vibrated in place; head held high, eyes bright, so focused was he on getting his partner back. The shining hope on McGarrett’s face was painful to see. Liam noticed the wistful look on Jenna’s face as she watched him and surmised that the mousy analyst has quite a crush on her boss. He sympathized, for its equally obvious that McGarrett barely noticed her existence.

The entire op, from the moment that Steve and his men slipped silently over the side of their raft, to when Murphy and the rest were called in for cleanup took less than an hour despite the size of the tanker. Liam stood on the deck, looking down with deep satisfaction at a glaring Anton Hesse who was kneeling with his hired thugs (the ones still alive), hands locked behind his head. Anton was a handsome man in his thirties, his good looks marred by sly, cruel eyes. Steve’s SEALs guarded them calmly, automatic rifles held ready, one moving among the prisoners with a handful of zip ties, trussing them up as he went.

They’d missed Viktor by less than a day, apparently the man had helicoptered off doing some of his dirty business elsewhere. When one of Anton’s Cantonese bodyguards made the tactical mistake of reaching for a hidden weapon, McGarrett simply shoots it out of his hand, and then calmly kneecapped him with a second bullet. After that, they had no problems with Hesse or his men.

It dawned on Liam with startling clarity that McGarrett could simply kill the man now and dump his corpse overboard for the sharks and no one here would bat an eye. McGarrett had full autonomy in these islands. He was in fact, the modern day _ali’i koa_ , ‘war chief’, or chief military officer of Hawaii. Hesse realized this too and clamped his mouth firmly shut, wide wary eyes locked on McGarrett, as Anton finally realized how very close he was to death.

Slavers were not tried in court on the Islands. They were sentenced immediately either to a lifetime of hard labor under the watchful eyes of the people they would victimize, or summarily executed. Nor did the Hawaiian people tolerate any type of the legalized forms of slavery that were rapidly gaining popularity in neighboring countries as well as the fragmented remains of the United States.

Once the prisoners were secured and transferred to the brig of the naval ship for interrogation, Steve and his teams immediately headed back down into the bowels of the tanker. Liam tagged along, his trusty Glock in hand. They quickly found two large groups of newly captured slaves. One group consisted of young Polynesian and Filipino men, obviously scooped up from the ports the tanker had docked in and due to be sold into labor camps. Most of them had been drugged into compliance.

The second group was made up of young Asian girls and women chosen for their youth and beauty. Some of the women had been brutally raped, the bruises still vivid against their bare skin, their eyes haunted. Kalakaua and Kaye took charge, gently shepherding them up out of the ship to where medical personnel waited. Murphy was surprised and impressed again when McGarrett spoke gently to them in their own languages, Filipino, Mandarin and Cantonese, reassuring them of their safety and that they would be returned home. The Commander was a man of many talents.

In the very lowest part of the ship, in a cleverly converted holding tank, things began to get very ugly quickly. They found hoarded stores of guns, ammunition, valuable medicine, heroin, alcohol and luxury foodstuffs. They passed a steel caged pit, the metal walls rusty and splattered with gore, a grim contrast to the luxurious seats that surround it (there were even private booths for the patrons’ viewing pleasure).

This lower part of the ship reeked of sweat, shit, urine, and fear. They discovered pens of snarling fighting dogs—Mastiffs, Dobermans and Pitt Bulls mainly, cages of venomous snakes, and worse, cages of small animals used to bait the dogs and feed the snakes. McGarrett murmured a command to one of his men and the man immediately got on his com and called for someone to bring in animal control and quarantine officers.

Finally, they located the row of dank, steel reinforced cells where the in house fighters were housed. Many of them were alarmingly empty.

A burly, scarred tattooed man slurred abuse at them from his cell, as he drunkenly fondled a battered, naked, dull-eyed woman curled in the corner—his ‘reward’ for winning his last bout. Another simply snarled sleepily as they pass his stinking cell. Some of the combatants have been so genetically altered that they were not quite human anymore, bulked with muscle implants and animal DNA. A man with a broad lion’s face and a huge, furry body stared impassively at them with golden feline eyes. A hairless, slit-eyed woman, her pale body covered with pearly scales hissed, flashed her fangs and spat viciously at the window of her cell. The pale yellow venom dripped down the Plexiglas.

These people would require very special handling and it was Murphy’s turn to call in his support team, who were accustomed to dealing with traumatized and abused slaves. He knew that if they were human everything would be done to help rehabilitate them, but if they prove to be DNA altered clones— genetically manufactured toys--they would most likely be euthanized or locked away where they could do no harm. Fighting clones are not engineered for a long lifespan.

McGarrett swallowed hard, but kept moving down the corridor, eyes darting quickly over the inhabitants of each cell, searching for his partner. Suddenly, he froze in front of a cell at the very end of the corridor, a pained, guttural sound coming from his throat. There was a deep, bass warning snarl from within and Liam pushed up to look through the window, even as McGarrett shouted down the hall and ordered someone to bring him keys and a medic immediately.

Inside the cramped cell, a massive white dog stood guard over the curled up body of a man lying in the corner. The room stank of blood and urine and there was a growing pool of red spreading beneath the still form. The dog was enormous, and standing, its back reached Liam’s waist. Its once white hide was scarred and splattered with dried blood and its jaws were massive with glistening, white knife-like teeth. Murphy realized that the animal has been altered as well, some freak ‘designer’ deciding that implanted tiger shark tooth buds would add to the viciousness and gore of the pit fights.

The dog’s eyes were gleaming amber and there was an eerie intelligence in them that made the hair on Liam’s neck stand up. This animal will have to be put down, he thought grimly and turned to McGarrett to inform him of that, only to find the man already unlocking the door with the key one of his men jogged up with. Quickly, he grabbed the McGarrett’s arm, and suddenly found his wrist twisted back in a brutal grip, he himself frozen under McGarrett’s arctic glare.

“Man, you set foot in there and that dog will rip your throat out! At least have the brains to shoot it from the door first!”

He was shrugged off impatiently as the man ignored him, opened the door and slipped inside. Incredulous, Liam turned to Chin, who was standing silently with his shotgun held at ready. Kelly shook his head at him and simply said, “Wait,” his calm eyes on McGarrett and the scene before him. Murphy swore under his breath and turned back fully expecting to see the man get savaged. What he did see astonished him.

McGarrett was _kneeling_ , in an extremely vulnerable position, sidearm holstered, hands out, palms up in supplication and talking quietly to the dog, which cocked its massive head and watched him, and actually appeared to be listening. Straining to hear the soft tones, Liam caught the words _please, good dog_ , and something that sounded like _Danno_.

To Liam’s amazement, the animal stepped forward, sniffed him deeply, bumped McGarrett’s shoulder hard with its head and briefly licked his cheek, before stepping aside to allow him access to the man lying wounded at its feet.

***********************************

There are hands on him, lifting him from the cold floor and he is being cradled in strong arms against a broad chest. A familiar voice is crooning, “Danno, Danno, I’ve got you now, Danno.”

A big hand strokes his filthy head, a warm mouth is pressed against his temple. The scent is also familiar, intriguing. It’s clean, like an ocean breeze, and it speaks to Danny of safety, warmth and home, it whispers 'mate', and that makes Danny frown in confusion, because this scent is definitely male. A wet, cold nose nudges Danny’s hands and a wet tongue slurps them. Snow whines softly.

He frowns again, struggles to open his eyes, mumbles her name, “Snow…” He hears her yelp excitedly at the rare sound of his voice and he tries once again to open his eyes because he really wants to see whose hands are on him—these hands that don’t hurt.

Finally, he manages to crack them open and peers dimly up into the face of the person holding him. He blinks and stares and thinks he must be dead, because this face is one that he only ever sees in his most private dreams. He closes his eyes, pleased, because those dreams are always nice and the dark takes him under again.

“Danny! Hang on, D, hang on for me, baby. Where’s that goddamned medic?”

***********************************

Murphy and the rest of the 5-0 team found themselves summarily abandoned to mop things up. McGarrett vanished in a Med-Evac helicopter with Williams, giant devil dog in tow. It was going to be three days before he sees the man again, and then only from a distance. He and Chin located the Hesse brothers’ luxurious quarters, freed the dazed young Chinese girl chained to the bed, and gleefully raided their desks and computer records for information. They also found a safe crammed full of stacks of paper Euros, Yin and gold bars, pearls and diamonds.

The Hesse brothers kept meticulous financial records, and surprisingly enough, excellent medical records on their fighters, who apparently were a major source of income. Chin was quick to forward anything he found on ‘Guilao’ to McGarrett at the naval hospital. Murphy was so overjoyed to discover a detailed client list (covering a dozen countries on three continents) that he nearly danced a jig. This was quite simply the bust that was going to make his career.

When he showed up at 5-0 headquarters a week later to wrap up the interdepartmental paperwork, he found McGarrett in his office, hastily scribbling his signature on a stack of forms and reports. The big white dog was sprawled at his feet, gnawing meditatively on a rawhide chew bone as long and thick as Liam’s forearm. The dog’s white hide was so clean it glistened and it was wearing a fancy red leather collar studded with absurd silver hearts.

Liam noticed that there were new vaccination tags as well as an engraved nametag dangling from the collar. The dog raised its massive head and curled a lip at him in warning. He obediently froze in his tracks at the threshold until its master deigned to notice him.

McGarrett looked up and smiled and Liam was astonished at the change on the man’s face. The man looked ten years younger, his expression open and welcoming where it had once been a stoic mask. McGarrett stands and extends his hand in welcome and Liam tentatively stepped forward, wary eyes on the dog.

“It’s alright, Liam, come on in. Snow is a good dog.”

Snow raised her amber eyes adoringly to her new master and wriggled her cropped tail at the mention of her name.

“Snow?”

“That’s her name, Danny gave it to her.”

“Is he talking yet?” Liam asked gently, already suspecting the answer. That’s one of the reasons he was here, to offer McGarrett advice on dealing with the man who had once been his partner and now something else entirely.

McGarrett’s bleak look was answer enough. He leaned back in his chair with a gusty sigh and ran a hand over his face. He stared off in the distance for a minute before returning his attention to Liam.

"He doesn’t talk much, he’s still too sick. The doctors say it’s a medical miracle that he can function at all. He was poisoned with snake venom in his last bout and then his wounds got infected and turned septic. His x-rays and MRIs show evidence of massive head trauma dating back to his disappearance and his gene map indicates they fucked with his DNA. According to the records Chin found, they added bits of feline and reptile DNA to make him stronger and faster.”

“The Chinese call it ‘Tiger Embraces Cobra’ ” Liam offered, nodding in recognition. “It’s an expensive treatment that actually keeps on benefiting the recipient—strengthens his immune system so he heals faster, ages slower, lives a longer life. Enhances his speed, coordination, hearing, sense of smell. He’s damned lucky. Some of the cheaper wet work causes a man to burn out at an incredible rate.”

“Yeah,” McGarrett answered heavily. “I should be grateful that Hesse took such good care of his favorite toys, even if it left Danno with fangs and retractable claws.” He turned a bleak look on Liam. “And no memory.”

“Shite.” Murphy dropped in the chair across from McGarrett. “That makes things more difficult for both of you.” He stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head to meet Steve’s tired eyes, and just asked. “How feral is he?”

McGarrett choked out a laugh and wiped a hand across his mouth.

“The doctors have to sedate him and strap him down to treat him, even as sick as he is. The only person he willingly lets touch him is me, and I’m not sure why, because I really don’t think he remembers me at all.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, in spades.”

After a moment, Murphy raised his head and eyed McGarrett thoughtfully.

“But you’re in it for the long haul?” It wasn’t really a question.

McGarrett raised his chin, a defiant spark in his eyes.

“I’ve already signed off on a six month leave from the squad. I’ll fucking retire if I have to.”

“He means that much to you?” Murphy asked softly.

McGarrett met his eyes square on.

"He means everything to me.”

“Well, bucko, sit back and I’ll spew some minor pearls of wisdom your way that may help you with your boy. I’ve dealt with folk rehabbing Ferals before and believe you me, it’s a long and tricky business.”

McGarrett gave him a wan smile and obeyed, but his eyes gleamed with interest and Liam knew he would take his advice to heart. Liam spent the next half hour giving McGarrett contact information for counselors who dealt with those who had been enslaved and tips for dealing with their specific PTSD symptoms.

Liam suddenly noticed that Snow had eased herself unnoticed between them, and while she continued to lie quietly and chew on her bone, she also never took those unnerving golden eyes off of Liam. The good commander had acquired himself a faithful bodyguard. He sat back in his chair.

“You noticed that he was collared when we found him.”

“Yeah. I took the damned thing off.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, but you’ll be needing to put another right back on him, and make sure he is awake and knows you’re the one doing it.”

McGarrett scowled and leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

Snow raised her big head at his ominous tone and eyed Liam’s throat thoughtfully.

“Because until he is himself again—if he ever is, he will need to know that he is owned. That someone cares enough to collar him.” He watched as McGarrett pondered that, he didn’t like it, but he listened. Liam nodded with satisfaction before continuing.

“It doesn’t need to be as fancy as Herself’s necklace here, or even tight, but it has to be well made and heavy enough that he can feel it. That he knows it’s there.”

McGarrett frowned again, eyes troubled, and spoke slowly as though feeling out his words.

“It has to do with the way they trained him, doesn’t it? The way they…broke him psychologically to make him fight.”

Liam nodded approvingly. McGarrett was a bright boy, he caught on quick and retained information well.

“Aye. There is always a special trainer assigned to the difficult ones, the ones who fight their masters. They force a bond on the fighter and they use whatever works—pain, sensory deprivation, degradation, rape, drugs, even sex or pleasure—to control them. You remember that enormous Samoan with the crazy eyes we had to sedate to transport to rehab?”

“Yeah. He nearly killed two yeomen before he went down.”

“Well, he’s curled up in his room crying like a babe for his trainer. Has been for the past week.”

McGarrett raised his chin proudly.

“Danny didn’t bond with any of them. I read Hesse’s records. They tried twice, but he always killed them the moment he could get his hands on them. They eventually used threats to Snow to control him, and even that didn’t always work.”

He dropped his eyes to his hands, clasped tightly on his desk and spoke softly.

“They were letting him bleed out in his cell. Hesse decided he was too much trouble to maintain and getting too old to fight, so they left him alone there with Snow to die. They dumped the bodies of the dead into the open sea for the sharks.”

Liam hissed out a breath. It had been a very close call, then. Daniel Williams was one tough little bastard. He made a mental note to never, ever get between him and McGarrett.

“That independent spirit will work in your favor, I think. But start with the collar anyway, it will reassure him even if he doesn’t consciously understand why. If everything works out, one happy day, he will take it off himself, but until then, you will have to be the alpha of the pack. I’d say you’re already doing quite well. At least Herself thinks so.” He nodded down at the big dog sprawled between them. “What kind of dog is she anyway? I’ve never seen the like.”

McGarrett smiled fondly down at the big canine.

“According to the kennel records, she’s a breed called Bully Kutta. They originated in India and Pakistan as war dogs. The kennel master pumped her with growth hormones and had her teeth altered with shark DNA, she can shed them and regrow them.”

He reached into a pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out an impressively large serrated tooth and handed it to Liam, who examined it, and ran a thumb along the razor sharp edge.

McGarrett flashed him a surprisingly boyish grin.

“I used a pair of pliers and pulled that out of a baseball bat she found and was gnawing on.”

“Bloody hell!” Liam was impressed despite himself.

McGarrett gave him another one of those proud grins.

“Danny was the only one who could do anything with her. Hesse had them tossed together into a melee fight. They packed up and fought back to back and kicked major Pitt Bull ass. After that fight, they kenneled them together.” His voice faltered and his handsome face sobered. “They’ve been through a lot. I watched some the fights Hesse recorded.”

Liam watched him, seeing his not so well hidden grief. The man blamed himself for not being there for his partner, for not knowing he was alive and a captive, that he was brutalized for years in some of the worst ways. He leaned forward in his chair.

“But they have blue skies from now on, yeah?” he asked gently. “As much as you can give them.”

McGarrett gave him a slow, almost shy smile and Liam wondered again, how he could have mistaken this kindhearted man for the stoic military commander he had first met.

"Well, I have filed all my liaison paperwork with your people. Ms. Kaye is a treasure when it comes to the organization of all that shite, I tell you. I just need to follow up and get confirmation paperwork on Anton and the assets found onboard the tanker.”

Liam leaned forward again, eagerly.

“Did you really personally torpedo Hesse’s tanker after it was stripped?”

McGarrett smirked smugly at him.

“Actually, it was MK54 air launched missiles fired from a MH-60R Seahawk helicopter. The wreckage will make a nice reef abutment for our marine life to colonize. I’ll have Jenna get you the copies of the reports you need. The money, gold and precious stones have been added to the state treasury. The medicines were immediately dispensed to our hospitals and the food was donated to various charitable organizations, while the illegal drugs were destroyed. The alcohol will be used as trade goods and the firearms and ammunition, of course, went directly to Pearl and Hickam. The animals are still in quarantine—many of them had to be destroyed. Anton Hesse and his men were all executed last night.”

McGarrett leaned back in his chair and this time his smile was dark and dangerous, the iron commander back.

“I executed Hesse myself.”

Liam blinked. “You’re a man of many talents, Commander.”

He stood and slowly extended his hand, mindful of the ever-watchful dog at his feet.

“It was a pleasure to work with you. I’m on my way back to Macau now. We got a tip that Viktor is regrouping there. You will want to keep your eyes wide open Commander, Viktor Hesse is a vengeful man. He will want retribution for Anton, he and his brother were more than a bit incestuous, and he will want his property back. We also have reason to believe his main backer, the man behind the scenes, is living on your islands somewhere. I’ll send you copies of what records we have.”

McGarrett stood as well, came around the desk and shook his hand hard.

"My name is Steve, Liam, and thank you for helping bring Danny back home to us. If you ever need anything, ask.”

“Well now, I know where I will come next holiday, yeah?”

McGarrett clapped his shoulder.

“Anytime, _brah_. And thanks again for the advice.”

“Keep in touch, McGarrett. Let me know how he does.”

“I will. Aloha, Liam, take care and have a safe trip.”


	3. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aesthetically, it’s a beautifully crafted piece of harness work. The wide strap is soft, flawless black leather, oiled to a glossy finish with sturdy stainless steel buckles and D rings, silver wolf studs and a shiny silver plate ready to be engraved with a name. It’s expensive and it’s also the type of collar that you purchase for a much loved guard dog. It’s sturdy and hefty in Steve’s hands.
> 
> He hates it.

Aesthetically, it’s a beautifully crafted piece of harness work. The wide strap is soft, flawless black leather, oiled to a glossy finish with sturdy stainless steel buckles and D rings, silver wolf studs and a shiny silver plate ready to be engraved with a name. It’s expensive and it’s also the type of collar that you purchase for a much loved guard dog. It’s sturdy and hefty in Steve’s hands.

He hates it.

Sighing in frustration, he hangs it back on the rack and leaves the exclusive pet store after buying yet another enormous rawhide bone from the bin in the dog toy aisle. This is the same store where he purchased Snow’s other supplies and he’ll be damned before he buys a collar for his partner here.

Snow is waiting patiently in his truck, sitting alertly behind the wheel, guarding his seat and looking like she might just drive off at any moment. Steve notices with approval that passersby give his vehicle a wide berth, especially when she hangs her massive head out the window, tongue lolling from jowls set with razor sharp teeth. The big dog’s intelligence continues to amaze him and he has no doubt that she, like Danny has been altered in significant ways that Steve has no clue about.

Instead of acting like her vicious brethren aboard the tanker—many who had to be euthanized for sheer savagery—she is always calm and composed. Steve has the eerie notion that she understands almost everything he says. Her manners are impeccable and she obeys any command he gives instantly. Steve suspects that Danny is responsible for that. He would want to give Snow any chance of survival he could, even if it meant having her obey a new master.

Huffing out another frustrated breath, he stands outside the store; bone tucked under his arm and rams his hands in his pants pockets-- only to nick his thumb on the dog tooth in one. Absently, he sticks his thumb in his mouth and sucks the drop of blood away before handing the bone over to a happily wagging Snow.

His tentative internet—and thank God, the Net is still up-- forays into research on collaring squicked the hell out of him, and he sure isn’t going to ask anyone he knows for advice on purchasing a slave collar. He absolutely refuses to visit a sex shop to inspect the tawdry merchandise there, because first, that isn’t the type of collar he wants for Danno, and second, everybody on the island is familiar with his face and the second he walked in the door of one, the gossip grapevine would be twanging and before he knew it everyone including the Governor would be calling and inquiring about his possibly deviant sex life.

He is about to climb back in the truck and call it a day, when a window display in the craft supply store across the street catches his eye. He jogs over for a closer look and thirty minutes later leaves with a bag of supplies.

***********************************

It’s hot as hell and he burns and sweats and burns again. There are strange noises and smells and he doesn’t know where he is, so he fights out of principle, because he has always fought, it’s all he remembers. Strange hands hold him down and he bites, slashes out and kicks feebly until they tie him down and slide a needle in a vein. Panting for breath, confused, and weak and hurt, he lets the dark tide of unconsciousness drag him down.

***********************************

It’s quite a surprise to discover that he is still alive and even more of one to come groggily awake and discover himself clean, bandaged and tucked warmly into a soft bed. There is no pain. He wriggles his toes dreamily, enjoying the feel of blissfully clean skin and sheets and he recognizes the weightless feel of really good drugs in his system. He blinks sleepily, gaze wandering slowly around the very white room. Its very bright here. There is even a window, open with a glimpse of blue sky, sheer white curtains blowing in the ocean breeze. This is a very good dream.

A movement to his right catches his eye and he slowly turns his head. There is a man sitting asleep in a chair there. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his head droops. He is going to have a crick in his neck when he wakes. In contrast to the white room, he is dark, neatly shorn dark hair liberally peppered with gray at the temples, muscular tanned arms and dressed all in black TAC gear, down to the vest and boots.

His face is familiar. So is his scent. He smells clean, like the ocean. Danny inhales and smiles. He likes this dream. He drifts off to sleep again.

***********************************

 

He jolts abruptly awake to pain and strange, impersonal hands all over him, the sharp scent of antiseptic and his own blood. Snarling weakly he tries to slash out at the person hurting him—the deep cuts across his hip and abdomen flare with white hot pain—his right arm is tethered to an IV and a plastic board. He struggles to free himself, lashes, claws out with his free arm, hears his captors curse, as they try and hold him down.

He turns his head, fangs flashing, and slashes the wrist of the man holding him, tastes blood as the man yells and reels back, holding his arm. Sensing victory, Danny rolls out of the bed—more white pain as the IV is yanked out, followed by the warm drip of blood from reopened wounds---two burly men block the door, while a third curses and holds his bloody wrist, and Danny snarls a warning and scuttles across the room to get his back to a corner.

Panting for breath, bent over with pain, hot and dizzy, he looks around for Snow, panicking when he doesn’t see her. If she isn’t here, she must be dead. Suddenly there is movement behind the men blocking the door and a tall, black clad man and a big white dog push their way in. Snow snarls and snaps viciously at one of the men and he dives out of the way hastily. She runs over to Danny, rears up and whines anxiously, laps at his hot face, and he clings to her strong neck dizzily.

“What the fuck is going on here!”

Danny cocks his head and stares. He is awake, right? The dreams have never been quite this lucid before.

“Sir, we were just trying to change his bandages…”

“He nearly bit my goddamned arm off…”

“Get out. Send Dr. Wells in. Now!”

“Yes, sir!”

The Man-from-Dreams turns towards Danny, and the angry look vanishes instantly, melts into something else entirely—something like joy.

“Hey, Danno, you finally decided to wake up, huh?”

His voice is soft, almost tender, and he approaches Danny’s corner slowly, empty hands in full view.

Danny immediately has the urge to yell at him and clamps down on that thought hard. He raises a hand to his throat, expecting a reproving shock from his collar, and feels his anxiety skyrocket when he realizes his collar is gone. He’ll be punished for that. Again.

Snow yaps happily and wags her tail at the Man and Danny stares at her in dismayed confusion. Has she been drugged, too?

Warily, he backs farther into his corner, letting go of Snow’s neck and putting his shoulder to the wall. He feels blood trickle down his belly and thighs and automatically brings a hand down to make sure his gut isn’t punctured, flinching at the renewed twinge of pain that simple touch causes. To his surprise, the Man flinches as well, his mobile face mirroring Danny’s discomfort.

“Oh, Danno, what have you done to yourself?” He moves closer cautiously, hands out, palms up.

To his horror at his lack of control—it must be the drugs in his system—Danny again finds himself wanting to verbally refute that statement, to talk back. He is saved by another wave of weakness and dizziness that has the room tilting and him sliding sideways towards the floor.

Strong arms catch him and he flinches, expecting a punishing blow. Instead, he is cradled carefully, lifted and carried back to bed. He is so astonished he forgets to bite and is still gazing in disbelief at his rescuer when a tiny woman in a white coat rushes in and slides a needle in his arm. The last thing he sees are the Man’s sad eyes as he bends over the bed, still holding one of Danny’s hands, while the doctor replaces his IV.

When he wakes later that night, the Man is still there, again asleep in the hard plastic chair beside Danny’s bed. Snow lies sprawled at his feet. Most miraculously of all, Danny is not chained down. He sleepily scratches the scars on his jaw and chest, too feverish and drug-muddled to puzzle this out, touches the pristine bandages on his hip and belly in wonder, falls back to sleep again.

***********************************

This Man is…different. His big hands are gentle, his voice calm. Danny doesn’t understand the look in his eyes—soft, but not weak.

He smells so familiar, like the ocean, salt and clean male musk. He talks to Danny, not at him and is always careful when he changes Danny’s bandages, cleans the healing wounds, dabs them with antiseptic and tapes a new sterile gauze pad in place. He is careful even when he shaves and bathes Danny, gives him his medication (he even swallows a capsule to show Danny it won’t hurt him) and feeds him.

The food is amazing. He is given not just generous portions of tender, perfectly cooked meat, but fresh vegetables and fruit as well. Danny chews slowly savoring each bite. He finds he is slowly returning the Man’s bright smiles and looking forward daily to his arrival. Danny also finds himself craving something he can’t name yet, something more than food and fresh air. Snow openly adores the man. He is taking good care of her too. She is clean and well fed and proudly wears a new collar. Danny touches his bare throat and wonders.

The Man tells him his name, explains that they were friends—partners-- Before. He tells Danny that he is very glad he found Danny and brought him back home to Hawaii. He says that Danny was stolen away by the Others almost five years ago, that he used to work with McGarrett, that they belong to a special task force that protects the people here from the Others. When Danny’s wounds heal and his fever finally breaks McGarrett says, he will take him home to McGarrett’s house.

Danny is doubtful, after all he still weak and damaged and doesn’t have a collar. He won’t be able to earn much in a match until he heals.

***********************************

One morning he wakes to find McGarrett, Steve, busily working on something at the small table by the window, lower lip caught between white teeth as he concentrates. Curious now, Danny watches as he carefully braids three soft, thick strips of fine black leather together in a thick plait, knots the ends and carefully uses a tool to clamp on polished silver fittings and add end chains, a lobster claw clasp and jump rings to them. When he finishes, he frowns down at the newly fashioned collar thoughtfully.

Danny flushes, ashamed of the anxious, unspoken questions he has, afraid to hope. As he watches, Steve digs in his pocket and produces a familiar serrated tooth, the wide base now set in silver as well, to make a pendant. McGarrett attaches Snow’s tooth to the collar and holds it up and examines it carefully, testing its strength. Danny frowns and wonders if he should point out that he has forgotten to add D rings for a leash, and a lock. Instead, he stays quiet and watches as Steve notices he is awake and gives him an uncertain look.

Danny feels a surge of excitement when Steve approaches the bed, collar in hand, eyes watching Danny’s, carefully gauging his reaction. Danny stays very still and meets Steve’s eyes placidly. When Steve sits on the side of the bed and offers the open collar, Danny gratefully tilts his head so Steve can fasten it around his neck. McGarrett does so, careful as always, and he smooths a cautious hand over Danny’s hair, gently touches his scarred cheek and they share hesitant smiles.

When Steve leaves to fetch Danny’s breakfast, Danny immediately reaches up and fingers his new collar, tracing the sharp tooth gently. It has no lock and is loose and does not bind, it has a piece of Snow ornamenting it and is soft around his throat. Best of all, it does not administer painful shocks. Danny likes it. He also likes that Steve made it for him. He lies back against his soft pillows and dozes, a small smile on his lips.

***********************************

A week later, McGarrett helps him dress in new, loose pants and pale blue shirt and escorts him out of the hospital to his truck, Snow trotting happily at their heels. Danny blinks owlishly in the bright sunlight, turns his face up to the warmth as he shuffles along and leans shakily on Steve’s strong arm. Sometimes if he was good and obeyed, the Others let him out of his cell onto a small section of the upper deck to see the sky and walk in the sun. Steve helps him climb into the truck and buckles him in and Steve drives them carefully through the busy city.

Danny is wide-eyed at all the bustle of people, noise and vehicles and the sheer explosion of bright colors and feeling over-stimulated, he clings tightly to the door handle, more than a bit queasy. He gulps in fresh air and hopes he does not throw up in Steve’s truck.

McGarrett talks quietly, pointing out various landmarks as he drives sedately until he comes to a quiet older neighborhood, the houses set on generous, beautifully landscaped lots. The house is an older white bungalow shaded with trees and surrounded by bushes of fragrant flowers. Danny sniffs, inhaling their heady scent mingled with the salt from the ocean breeze that comes off the small cove behind the house. The surf laps the small strip of beach. It’s very peaceful and beautiful. Danny feels something inside himself slowly unknot and his nausea eases.

***********************************

At first he tries to lie down and sleep on the floor with Snow, her luxurious cushion is certainly big enough to share, but McGarrett will have none of that. He gets upset and takes Danny’s hand and pulls him gently down into the big soft bed with him. Danny lies stiffly, wondering when McGarrett will mount him, but Steve just curls his long, lean body around Danny, wraps a careful arm around his waist, buries his face in the nape of Danny’s neck with a happy sigh and almost immediately drops off to sleep.

After a while, Danny cautiously touches Steve’s hand where it rests on Danny’s belly, tentatively tracing the strong tendons and long fingers. After a while, he yawns and falls asleep as well, lulled by the sound of the surf, Steve’s breathing and Snow’s gentle snores. Danny is not used to feeling safe.

***********************************

McGarrett’s hands are gentle on Danny’s scarred body as he smooths the sunscreen into his skin, careful of his healing wounds. Danny lies quietly on the blanket on the cool grass and watches him from under his lashes. Steve lets him sleep in the sun all he wants and allows him free range of the property. Steve feeds him his vitamins and antibiotics, with the same care he prepares Danny’s meals. He always checks and makes sure Danny swallows them all because he caught him spitting out the nasty tasting iron pill, so now Danny has to drink a tall glass of water afterwards to ensure they all went down.

Tiny, elderly Mrs. Poleke from next door bakes Danny plates of delicious sugar cookies, scolds him for not eating enough and always has a treat for Snow. He and Snow like Mrs. Poleke and make sure to check on her every day around lunchtime. Steve always smiles when he sees them hovering shyly near her lanai. Danny always shares his plate of cookies with Steve. Sometimes, Danny sneaks and gives one to Snow too, although Steve says human food isn’t good for her. Steve has a whole book on what is good for dogs.

Mr. Harris from across the street always hobbles over with his cane when he sees that Steve has the garage door open and is working on the Marquis to ‘help’. Danny privately thinks that Mr. Harris just likes to sit and talk a lot about the ‘old days’. Steve always greets him with a smile though and listens patiently while he works.

Danny helps by handing Steve various tools. The Marquis is a huge land barge of a car and apparently takes a long time to fix. Sometimes, he and Steve take a break and sit in the wide front seat and listen to music. Danny really likes that Springsteen guy’s music that Steve always insists on playing. Sometimes, Steve talks about his father’s death during the Disasters and how lucky Steve was that when the tsunamis hit, it was on the other side of the island, sparing Steve’s home save for some water damage.

***********************************

Danny paces the beach anxiously when McGarrett goes for his morning swim---Danny doesn’t like the water—the Others used to punish his escape attempts by dropping him overboard in a fishing net until he was half drowned and too exhausted to fight back. They called it ‘trawling’. McGarrett, though, loves the water, so Danny waits, keeps an eagle eye on the sleek dark head cutting through the waves and paces along the edge of the water until Steve comes back.

Snow waits too, eyes alert, tongue lolling. Snow is a very good dog and Danny is proud of her. She gives a delighted yap when she sees that Steve is returning and Danny picks up Steve’s towel and finally relaxes a little. McGarrett pops up out of the surf and stands and wades out of the water, beaming with pleasure when he sees them waiting. Danny finds himself smiling helplessly back, face hot. He hastily offers the towel to cover up his confusion and drops his eyes when Steve steps close and takes it with a warm thank you.

The moment is broken when Snow suddenly charges into the surf with a happy bark and emerges with a young shark that is at least two feet long, which she shakes vigorously to ensure it is dead, then trots proudly over and drops it at their feet. Danny is horrified that the thing was in the water so close to Steve and doesn’t understand why McGarrett throws back his head and laughs loudly, then pats Snow’s head and says she is a good dog. She happily devours most of it and buries the rest in the back yard.

Two nights later she trees a would-be burglar who was trying to pry open one of Mrs. Poleke’s windows on top of her house. Danny immediately scrambles up the wisteria trellis after him and tosses him, screaming, off onto Steve’s lawn, where Steve quickly handcuffs him. The police respond quickly and haul him away before Snow can eat him.

Steve scolds Danny for going up after the man and examines him carefully to make sure he didn’t tear open his wounds. Danny doesn’t know what all the fuss is about, it was an easy climb and the guy only had a crow bar, which Danny took away from him. Danny didn’t even bite or claw him. He sulks a little at the gentle scolding until Steve breaks out the ice cream and hoarded peppermint patties.

***********************************

Three days later, Steve tells Danny that they are going to grill dinner outside because they are having guests. The people Steve works with are coming over to visit Danny. McGarrett explains that he and Danny used to work with Chin, Kono and Jenna and that they are very happy he is home and that he is better. Danny is dubious. He doesn’t remember these people, but Steve looks happy. Maybe he misses them, he explained to Danny that he was taking a vacation now.

Steve takes Danny out early to the Farmer’s Market to purchase fresh food, and Danny and Snow dutifully trail at his heels and help carry stuff and taste samples at the various booths. McGarrett is in a good mood and buys not only fresh fish and steaks, but something called malasadas as well. They are delicious and Danny eats three before Steve confiscates the bag and tells him he will ruin his dinner. Danny doubts that very much. He always eats whatever McGarrett gives him. It beats the small rations of dry kibble the Others used to feed him.

They return home and Steve starts the grill and sets up the food, when his guests arrive. Chin arrives on a rumbling motorcycle, which Danny eyes with interest. Kono and Jenna come in a bright red car. They bring food gifts, fresh fruit, a bottle of red wine and more interestingly, a case of beer. Danny stays behind Steve when they approach, peering shyly around his shoulder. Snow has been ordered to stay on the lanai and stay out of the way and she is sulking, head on her paws, looking very put upon .

They all greet him happily with smiles. Kono is pretty and smells like flowers and the sea. She has sea salt in her hair and jokes about how bad the surf was this morning. Chin makes Danny uneasy, and he stays warily out of reach, looking uncertainly at Steve for cues. Chin is dangerous, but he is Steve’s friend and Steve obviously trusts him.

The third person, Jenna, puts his hackles up immediately for one simple reason. He can smell her heat, and he doesn’t like the wistful glances she gives McGarrett when she thinks no one is looking. He makes sure to flash her his fangs in warning to back off when McGarrett has his back turned at the grill. Her wide-eyed hasty retreat to help Kono fetch plates and silverware from the kitchen is very gratifying.

***********************************

Steve coaxes Danny to run and spar with him when Danny’s wounds finally heal. Danny easily keeps up with him when they run along the beach or the trails, and they spar and wrestle like children in the back yard. McGarrett is both fast and sneaky, qualities Danny appreciates in an opponent. Danny refuses to join McGarrett on his morning swims though. Showers and baths are enough, and when it comes to dealing with water Danny is as fastidious as a cat these days.

McGarrett noticed the stretches and easy katas that Danny was doing each morning on the lanai before Steve’s morning swim. He asked Danny about them and Danny tried to answer—he knows Steve wants him to talk again—but he couldn’t find the words. Frustrated, Danny had tugged angrily at his collar, sharp tooth digging into his palm, remembering the defiant curses he had shouted at the Others and the painful shocks used as punishment. He learned very quickly to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to survive.

Noticing his growing distress, Steve steps up and engulfs him in a hug. Shocked, Danny stands very still before tentatively wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist. Danny inhales Steve’s heady scent with deep pleasure. Steve always smells good, even when he is sweaty. Without thinking, Danny burrows closer and nuzzles his nose into the curve of Steve’s shoulder, tongue darting out to steal a taste of the salty musk of his skin. He feels Steve stiffen and wonders if he has gone too far and will be punished now and it’s his turn to freeze in place.

Immediately, Steve pulls him even closer, rubs his back and drops a quick kiss on the top of his head and reassures him that it’s alright, that Danny has done nothing wrong. Danny relaxes, almost giddy with relief. He likes it when Steve touches him. He wonders if Steve would get mad if Danny licked his tattoos. He wants to see if the inked skin tastes different.

***********************************

In the evenings after dinner, they retreat to the big couch in the living room. Steve turns on the TV or puts in a DVD and then either works on paperwork from the office or reads a book while listening to the news. McGarrett likes old films about an improbable monster called Godzilla who is fond of stomping on tiny Japanese people. Danny wonders if Steve ever notices that the monster has a zipper down his back. Danny sits next to Steve on the couch because Steve always throws a long arm over Danny’s shoulders and tucks him closer.

Once, Danny picked up the book Steve was reading, but he could make no sense of the tiny marks inside, no matter which way he turned it, so he carefully put it back down. Steve had looked sad afterwards so Danny is careful not to touch the books now. He and Snow diligently patrol the yard every evening and make sure there are no more burglars trying to break into Mrs. Poleke’s house. Danny thinks the last one was probably trying to steal her delicious cookies.

After they go to bed, Danny waits until Steve falls asleep so he can snuggle closer to the man. Sometimes he timidly touches parts of Steve. Danny especially likes to run his fingers through his soft hair, or trace the curve of his bicep or hip. He watches Steve’s face as he sleeps in the moonlight. Steve’s lashes are really long. Danny thinks that maybe he would like to mate with Steve. It probably wouldn’t hurt much and Steve would maybe give him kisses and hugs. He wonders if Steve would like to mate with him too. Steve always insists he sleep in the same bed.

Maybe Danny is too ugly now, with all his scars.

***********************************

One afternoon McGarrett sits Danny down at the kitchen table and pulls out a box of photographs. The table means that whatever Steve has to show him is serious, because the couch is for TV and cuddles. Danny dutifully takes each one as it is handed to him and stares at it. Some of the people he recognizes. Steve and Chin and Kono in an office or on the beach, always smiling. Steve is delighted when Danny shyly repeats their names. Danny’s voice isn’t very good now, too hoarse and raspy and damaged, but Steve doesn’t mind, always saying, Use your words, Danno.

He is surprised to see himself in some of the photos, often standing next to Steve wearing uncomfortable looking clothes. He traces a finger over the one where he is wearing a blue shirt with long sleeves and a tie and gives Steve a doubtful look. He doesn’t know why that makes Steve throw back his head and laugh loudly and give Danny a very fond look and tell him that he looked very professional then.

It’s taken Danny a while to get used to wearing more clothing than a ragged pair of board shorts. After all, he spent a lot of time locked naked in his cell. He accepts the new tee shirts, shorts and loose, comfortable pants Steve makes him wear, but Steve has to coax him into shoes—and even then, he will only wear flip-flops or a soft pair of sneakers.

Even more puzzling than the work photos are the pictures of a little baby and young girl that Steve hands him, a very serious look on his face. Danny examines them closely. In some of them, a younger Danny holds the baby and smiles wide at the camera. In a couple the little girl sits on Danny’s shoulders or dangles laughing from his arm. Steve looks troubled and explains that the photos are of Grace as a baby, and some taken shortly before Danny disappeared, and that she is Danny’s daughter. Danny stares long and hard at the sweet, pretty face and slowly shrugs because he doesn’t remember her and then feels bad because that makes Steve look very sad.

After that, Danny spends time trying very hard to remember Before, but rapidly becomes frustrated because his life before the Others is a blank space in his head. When he tries harder, it makes his head hurt so badly that he goes to Steve and timidly asks for medicine. Steve gives him aspirin and a neck rub and puts him down on the couch with a soft pillow with orders to nap.

He suddenly remembers the fragments of a phone conversation that he overheard shortly after Steve brought him home. Danny had been dozing with Snow on a blanket in the sun, while Steve worked on his laptop on the lanai. The tense change of tone in Steve’s voice had been what woke him up, so Danny kept his eyes closed and listened. Danny’s enhanced hearing is excellent and he easily overheard both sides of the conversation.

_A woman’s voice, crisp, with a British accent, “He doesn’t even remember his own child. He’s been living like an animal for almost five years, savaging people. How can you expect me to trust him with her?”_

_Steve was angry, Danny could see it in the set of his shoulders as he turned away, lowering his voice so as not to awaken Danny._

_“He’s still Danny and he’s getting better every day. He was kept prisoner and treated like an animal but by some miracle he managed to survive what would have killed most men and we got him back. And no, he doesn’t remember anything else, but Rachel, how long do you think you can keep her away from him? He’s still her Danno.”_

_Danny had frowned at that, because he had thought he was Steve’s Danno._

_“As long as it takes, Commander.” was the cold reply._

_Steve abruptly ended the call with a curse._

***********************************

Danny thinks about that and becomes concerned that maybe he doesn’t really belong to Steve after all. Desperate to confirm that connection, Danny waits until bedtime and for Steve to fall asleep before sliding down in the wide bed and trying to service Steve with his mouth. Steve comes wide-awake with a gasp and grabs Danny’s shoulders and shoves him away.

Humiliated and hurt, Danny rolls off the bed and bolts, ignoring Steve’s anxious calls after him. Danny feels really stupid. Of course, Steve doesn’t want him that way. Danny is too scarred and ugly. He is a pit fighter, not a bed toy. His torso is marked with knife cuts and claw slashes, his arms and legs peppered with bites. His face has pale slashes of scar tissue across his right brow, cheek and jaw from the time that a Jaguar Man nearly killed him. The razor sharp claws missed Danny’s jugular by a hair’s breath. Danny had gone low and hamstrung and then gutted the big man. That fight had earned the Other a lot of money and Danny had been given real meat in his rations for a week although he was too hurt to enjoy it.

Danny’s bare feet are wet and he blinks when he realizes that he is standing at the edge of the cove, the tide lapping his ankles. He stops, unsure of what to do now and stares wildly around him. Maybe Steve will still keep him if he is good and uses his words and doesn’t try to touch Steve again. Maybe Steve won’t send him away. His heart pounds in fear at that thought and he tugs anxiously at his soft collar. Danny doesn’t want to be given back to the Others.

Before he can decide what to do, strong arms wrap warmly around his waist and Steve is there, turning him and gathering him close in one of his all encompassing hugs. To his intense relief, Steve holds him close and as always, knows what Danny needs and cups his face with one hand so Danny has to meet his eyes, and tells him that Steve does want him, that yes, Danny belongs to Steve and that he loves Danny, but it isn’t time for them to have sex yet.

Seeing the frustrated question in his eyes, Steve kisses his cheek tenderly, tucks Danny’s head against his broad shoulder and whispers in his ear that some day soon Danny will know when it’s the right time. Danny melts into the embrace, and clings hard to Steve, dizzy with relief. It’s some time before Steve untangles them and walks him back to bed and Danny sleeps safe in Steve’s possessive arms.

***********************************

A week later, after a final visit to the doctor (Danny did not want to go and protested with much vigorous flailing of his arms—which caused Steve to laugh aloud—and had to be heavily bribed with malasadas), and pronounced healthy, Steve says they will go spent a half day at the office. Steve needs to speak to the Governor and do some paperwork. Steve does not like paperwork and his mouth droops sulkily on the way there. Danny is kind of glad that he can’t read now so he doesn’t have to do paperwork. It sounds really boring.

Danny looks forward to seeing Kono and Steve’s work place. She and Chin drop by every now and then and have a beer with Steve. Kono always hugs Danny and kisses his cheek. Also, Danny thinks maybe he needs to get used to going to the office everyday, because Steve assures him that Danny is still his partner and they have an important job to do. Danny isn’t sure exactly what that job entails, but he and Snow can follow Steve and guard his back.


	4. The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all freeze at the sight of the strange guy standing alone in the bullpen next to the tech table and the huge dog sprawled at his feet.

They file back into the bullpen after lunch laughing over some asinine joke that Big Mike told, the newest members of the most elite squad on the islands, hand selected by the Governor herself-- Mike Alika, Dave Song, and Ken Matsu. Mike and Dave are both former military men, Ken came over from HPD. Dave glances around the office, looking for Jenna. Of all the original members of 5-0, she is the most approachable. He is the newbie on the team and anxious to establish his place. It’s difficult because Kono and Chin tend to partner up and Commander McGarrett keeps an aloof distance unless they’re working an op.

They all freeze at the sight of the strange guy standing alone in the bullpen next to the tech table and the huge dog sprawled at his feet. The animal lifts its head and they recognize the Commander’s war dog, but still Dave has to consciously force his hand away from his sidearm. No dog should have teeth like that, it’s unnatural.

The guy cocks his head and watches them impassively, one hand resting lightly on the corner of the table. He isn’t armed, but he looks out of place…dangerous. He is short and stocky, with close-cropped blond hair and a nasty set of facial scars. He is dressed in a sleeveless blue shirt that reveals scarred, well-muscled arms, and loose black yoga pants and is, oddly enough, barefoot.

“Hey, brah, can we help you with something?”

Big Mike’s tone is just a shade too aggressive. He still hasn’t lost that Special Forces swagger, and he always plays it up in an attempt to impress Jenna. Dave’s eyes narrow when he spots the collar around the guy’s throat, and his suspicion is confirmed when the guy fluidly shifts to face them, pink tongue absently tracing his lips, revealing a flash of sharp incisor.

Dave yanks his sidearm out, adrenaline rising and points it at the fucking berserker standing right there, unleashed in the middle of their office. Mike and Ken follow suit, and they fan out for better sight lines. They’ve all dealt with the disastrous results of any normal human who had the misfortune to be attacked by one of these jacked up thugs. The Tongs are fond of using berserkers as bodyguards and enforcers.

“Don’t fucking move!”

The dog surges to her feet and faces them with a snarl, but the guy just calmly drops a hand down on her big head and raises a scarred blond brow, and that’s how McGarrett finds them when he walks back in the office after a meeting with the Governor.

“Stand down! He’s with me. What the hell is going on here?”

McGarrett’s voice cracks like a whip across the room and Dave cringes mentally, because he sounds pissed.

Kono and Chin come in behind the Boss and scowl when they take in the situation and Dave’s heart sinks, because he realizes that somehow he just managed to piss off his boss and the senior members of his team. He sheepishly reholsters his gun, as do Mike and Ken, and steps up and assumes responsibility.

“Sorry, boss, I saw the collar and thought we had a situation.”

“Thought we had a berserker loose in the office, Boss.” Mike rumbles, still staring at the blond, who gazes calmly back, one hand idly stroking the big dog’s head. Mike doesn’t seem to register that the dog is now eyeing his throat like it was a juicy porterhouse steak.

McGarrett steps over to the blond and drops a gentle hand on his shoulder, and looks questioningly into his eyes. He nods at what he sees there and turns back, hand resting lightly on the smaller man’s broad shoulder, his voice is cool and holds a definite note of warning when he addresses them.

“This is Danny Williams.”

Dave sort of dies inside at that calm statement, because it’s only Monday and not only has he managed to piss off the Ironman already, he’s done so by nearly shooting his partner. McGarrett’s legendary partner, who survived several years of captivity on a slave ship, allegedly by killing a lot of people who tried to kill him. The man whom McGarrett never stopped grieving for in the past four and a half years, the partner who is now standing in front of him regarding Dave with narrowed, clear blue eyes. Dave had better fix this now before he succeeds in totally torpedoing his career before the day is over.

He steps forward, hand out.

“Man, I’m sorry. I had no idea you were coming in today.”

Williams tilts his head and looks hard in his eyes, then slowly extends his own hand and shakes briefly. Dave notes it’s rough and hard, calloused with scarred knuckles and the hair on his nape rises when he feels the tiniest warning prick of claws before Williams lets go. Williams doesn’t say anything though, just looks up at McGarrett, who speaks for him.

“Danny’s voice was damaged, it’ll be a while before he gets it back. Danny, this is Dave, Mike and Ken. They’re the new recruits. We’ll see if they can cut working for 5-0.”

McGarrett’s voice is oddly gentle, with a tone Dave has never heard from the man and the look he gives his partner is affectionate. McGarrett turns back to them, brisk and all business as usual.

“Back to work, people. I want a status meeting in twenty minutes on the Nashimoto case. The Governor is not pleased at our lack of progress.”

He turns for his office, herding Williams with him, hand lightly on his lower back, dog at their heels. As they step into McGarrett’s office, Dave hears his boss, tone soft and fond, ask “Danno, what have you done with your shoes?”

Dave turns back to his colleagues. Mike is still frowning, he really hates berserkers, has some bad history there dating from his military service in what’s left of Japan, and Ken is shaking his head and tsking at Dave before heading for his desk. Chin and Kono are still looking at him disapprovingly and he spreads his hands apologetically. Chin sighs in disappointment and turns back to the tech table to bring up the necessary files, but Kono steps closer and speaks softly to him, her eyes hard.

“Danny is on the squad, Dave, ‘berserker’ or not, whatever the slang is now for people who have been brutalized and altered. If you or the others have a problem with that, you may want to get your transfer papers filed now, because if anyone leaves 5-0, I guarantee it won’t be him.”

She leans in closer to Dave, her voice clear so that it carries across to the other desks.

“If any of you guys give him trouble Steve will bust your asses so far down that you’ll be looking at orange traffic cones for the rest of your career, unless he decides that the sanitation department could use some new recruits cleaning out the sewers.”

Dave nods soberly, taking her words to heart. Kono has never given him a word of bad advice and besides he has nothing against Williams. The guy has had it rough, but he survived. You have to respect that. He exchanges a somber look with Ken, who shrugs good-naturedly. Mike, however, is still scowling after the commander and Williams and that is never a good sign, because while it’s good to have a guy like Mike to cover your back in a firefight, subtlety has never been his strong suit.

************************

Steve looks up from his computer and through the glass of his windows out into the outer office, where Chin is showing Danno something on the tech table. The blond head is bent attentively over the screen watching Chin’s hands. Danny’s aphasia and inability to read are handicaps, but he has no problems with visuals. Steve smiles proudly because Danny is doing so well.

He learns fast and remembers everything he sees and while he might not be able to recite Miranda rights to a suspect yet, or do paperwork, his enhanced senses come in handy in arrests. Yesterday, he ran down a perp twice his size and had the man down and handcuffed almost before Steve could blink, then looked pointedly at Steve and gestured impatiently for him to read the perp his rights.

It reminded Steve of the good old days and he celebrated by buying fresh malasadas for the office.

Steve is doing much better now that Danny is healing and adjusting so well. He spends at least an hour or two each month speaking via satellite phone with a counselor who deals with the families of former slaves. Liam keeps in touch also, always asks about Danny and promises to visit on his next vacation so that he can meet him and get to know him.

Steve has reluctantly accepted the fact that he couldn’t do anything to prevent Danny’s kidnapping or enslavement and he has almost no nightmares now that he and Danny share a bed. In fact it was Danny who had the last nightmare. He had rolled out of bed flailing and snarling viciously, not completely awake until Steve turned on the lamp and gently talked him out of the corner he had backed himself into. Danny had settled only after prowling around Steve and inhaling his scent for long moments, reassuring himself that he was awake. Steve had held him close for the rest of the night, whispering reassurances and gently kissing Danny’s rough face.

Liam is still in stubborn pursuit of Viktor Hesse. Hesse has apparently moved on from Macau after staying briefly at a compound he owned and collecting the funds he had stashed there. The last intel Liam had stated that he was last seen in Thailand. The leads for Hesse’s mystery backer in Hawaii came abruptly to a dead end with the sudden murder of a trusted informant.

**************************

Jenna has told herself a thousand times to just get over it or transfer out. Liam Murphy has kept in touch and offered her a place on his team and it would certainly mean an upgrade in pay and a promotion to Chief Analyst. She is seriously considering it. Steve doesn’t even know she is alive outside of the office and she certainly won’t be missed if she goes. Chin Ho is a master at research, and Kono is almost as good. Steve’s attention is and always will be focused on Danny. She saw it before Danny disappeared and she sees it now.

She knows they sleep together. The last time she was over for a team barbeque, she went inside to use the bathroom and was unable to resist snooping around a bit upstairs, just opening a few doors. The guest room was dusty, as was Mary’s untouched room, since her death in the big quake that decimated Los Angeles. Steve’s bed, however, was still unmade, the creamy sheets crumpled, with dents in both pillows. A pair of Danny’s battered sneakers lay beside the bed. Kono caught her coming back downstairs and gave her such an eloquent look of pity that Jenna blushed scarlet.

Her musings are interrupted when Big Mike sets a fresh coffee on her desk with a wink. She nods thanks. She likes Mike, but not in that way. Mike is just so crude sometimes. Her eye is suddenly irresistibly drawn to a tall broad-shouldered form moving through the inner offices. McGarrett turns and says something to Danny, who is at his shoulder, as always. She quickly turns her attention back to the files she is cross-referencing. Maybe she will send an email inquiry to Liam in Macau and see if the job is still available.

*************************

Mike sits at his desk in the corner and broods, glaring across the room towards the tech table where Williams is scrolling swiftly and intently through mug shots. Chin even rigged up headphones and a software program that reads files to the blond freak since he is too head damaged to remember how.

Mike doesn’t understand why the damned freak is even here, allowed in the same room with normal people. He knows it upsets Jenna, but the boss seems oblivious to her discomfort. Mike thinks maybe McGarrett is taking the partnership thing a little too far and he doesn’t understand why the man spends all his time with the blond head case when he has a classy girl like Jenna right under his nose.

He watches sullenly as Williams pauses and reaches out a hand to touch Chin’s arm lightly and draw his attention to the face on the screen. Kelly looks and grins at Williams, tells him that’s the man they’re looking for. Kono grins at Williams and shoulder bumps him in congratulations while McGarrett beams proudly from the doorway, like his pet has done a special trick.

Mike scowls down at his keyboards and resumes laboriously pecking out his report. He wishes he could go over McGarrett’s head and complain, but knows it would be useless. He’s the Governor’s golden boy and can do no wrong. Plus she likes the blond freak for some reason. Maybe Mike will be a bit careless in the field when it comes to watching William’s back.

*******************************

Danno growls under his breath when Steve hands him a TAC vest, but obediently puts it on anyway. It’s too hot and restrictive and he doesn’t like wearing it, but McGarrett insists. He drops his head under Steve’s fond gaze, his face flushed. He would do anything for Steve. Steve has given Danny everything from the clothes on his back to a safe home, as well as his affection and trust. He is beginning to realize that Steve really does see him as a partner, not a piece of property.

The bust seems to be a piece of cake at first. The gunrunners are neatly rounded up and disarmed and Kono, Ken and Mike are reading them their rights and preparing them for transport while Steve and Chin inspect a crate of automatic weapons, when all hell breaks loose. Danny and Snow are prowling the perimeter, making sure that all the bad guys were caught, when the asshole hidden on the next roof over starts spraying the area with bursts from an AK47, firing indiscriminately at both 5-0 and his own friends.

Danny and Snow duck behind a steel dumpster after Danny shoots a quick look Steve’s way to insure he has adequate cover. He can see Chin already climbing the fire escape in the alley to come up behind the guy, trusty shotgun in hand, Dave at his heels, when Danny notices that Mike is about to literally get his head shot off. The big man is so busy trying to cover Kono (who in turn is pushing some of the prisoners under cover) that he doesn’t see that he, himself, is an open target, the back of his head directly in the sniper’s sight line.

Without thinking, Danny moves, using his jacked up speed to sprint over and tackle the big man down and get his stupid head under cover. This is the problem with working with giants. Bits and pieces and various limbs refuse to stay safely out of target range. He hits Mike with a full body slam, hears and feels the impact of at least three bullets in the back of his vest as the sniper fires right where Mike’s fat head was seconds before, splintering a stack of shipping crates.

The bullets’ impact across his back and his own momentum knock the breath out of him as he slams hard into the grimy pavement. White stars explode behind his eyes as he rolls and crashes against the wall. He blinks, dazed, at the pavement.

*******************************

Kono shoves the last of the prisoners behind the shelter of the van and turns, just in time to see Danny slam Mike out the way and take the bullets that would have been fatal to the big man. Danny goes down hard, as his compact body slams and rolls against the pavement and goes still. Mike is on his hands and knees, shaking his head dazedly.

She hears Steve yell Danny’s name, then Chin ordering the shooter to drop his weapon, followed by the boom of his shotgun, then silence. She meets Ken’s horrified gaze, but neither of them are free to leave the prisoners they are guarding to go and check on their teammate. Steve is already sprinting to Danny’s side anyway, eyes wide and dark with fear.

*******************************

McGarrett’s heart is in his throat as he charges over to where his partner lies, face down in the alley. He kneels and reaches for his shoulders anxiously. There are three bullet holes spaced across the broad back, but fortunately the TAC vest caught them all.

“Danno?”

Danny gives a grunt of annoyance and sits up, leaning against Steve’s supportive shoulder. He eyes his badly scraped palms and scowls. His scarred cheek is also scraped and bleeding, but that and the forthcoming bruises caused by the bullets appear to be the only damage Danny has taken.

Steve drops his chin down on the bright head and huffs out a sigh and gives him a quick, relieved squeeze. The next moment he is scolding his partner and dissuading him from licking his own wounds, by gently grasping his wrist and tugging his hand from his mouth. Steve sometimes forgets how very close to the surface Danny’s animal instincts are now.

“Wait for the EMT, Danno.”

Danny heaves a put upon sigh and obeys. He doesn’t like the taste of antiseptic or the feel of bandages.

******************************

Danny sits patiently in the back of the ambulance and watches as the EMT cleans, debrides and picks gravel out of his scraped palms. His cheek stings from the smelly antiseptic and his nose itches fiercely. Steve hovers nearby, one eye on Danny and the other on HPD as they (finally) arrived as back-up. Snow sits alertly at Steve’s feet, red tongue lolling in the heat. Danny is sorry that he made Steve worry.

For some reason, Mike is hovering nearby too, eyes darting nervously back and forth between Danny and his boss. Steve is pointedly not looking at him. Finally, he squares his big shoulders and steps up and mumbles; “Thanks, Williams,” to Danny, nods at Steve and marches off to help the HPD load the prisoners for transport.

Danny stares after him. At least he hasn’t called Danny ‘freak’ this time. Danny has excellent hearing and is well aware of the opinions of some of his colleagues. Steve is squinting after Mike, a very private smirk of satisfaction on his face. It suddenly dawns on Danny that Steve knows too, exactly what others say about him and doesn’t care.

Danny suddenly wants to speak out, to say something that will make Steve smile. Danny looks around, trying to come up with a subject to try his words out on. His eyes fall on the pale blue tee shirt a gawker in the crowd of onlookers behind the yellow caution tape is wearing and he frowns as a dim memory surfaces—a big Hawaiian man, a shiny gray car, a pink stuffed rabbit and Steve wearing an enormous tee shirt with the man’s smiling face on the front, smiling down at him.

A pink rabbit? Really? Danny decides to give it a shot anyway and clears his throat.

“Steve…s..shave ice?” he asks tentatively.

Steve’s head whips around and he looks hard at Danny before following his gaze back to the guy wearing the shirt with Kamekona’s smiling face on it. Suddenly, he is standing close to Danny, a wide, joyous smile on his face as he beams happily down at him as he shares the memory, understanding immediately what Danny was trying to say.

He clasps Danny’s shoulder hard and his eyes are wet as he replies huskily, “Yeah, Danno, shave ice. All you want.”

Later, at home, Steve runs a hot bath for Danny to soak in and pours medicinal salts in the water to ease his sore muscles. After Danny has soaked to his satisfaction, Steve washes his hair for him, gently scratching his scalp until Danny is dizzy with bliss, then he rubs ointment into the wide bruises on Danny’s back, where his vest deflected the bullets. When they go to bed, Steve holds him close and presses kiss after soft kiss to his scraped, scarred cheek until Danny drifts contentedly off to sleep.

Steve holds his sleeping partner all night, softly stroking the cropped head, breathing in his warm male scent. When he saw Danny go down earlier, his heart nearly stopped and later when Danny had struggled to speak with him, to recount a memory, it soared. So today has been something of a trial for McGarrett, but the reward is worth it. Danny is remembering—something the doctors said would probably never happen. His partner, his Danno is slowly coming back to him.


	5. The Assassination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rainy season comes and goes and Danny gradually finds himself remembering more bits about his life in Hawaii. It’s not much yet, he remembers neither Rachel nor Grace, but it’s a start.

The rainy season comes and goes and Danny gradually finds himself remembering more bits about his life in Hawaii. It’s not much yet, he remembers neither Rachel nor Grace, but it’s a start. He talks more too, mainly to Steve, because he is self-conscious of his aphasia and his hoarse voice.

Today he is standing on the steps of the Iolani Palace waiting for Steve, who in turn is impatiently waiting for Governor Jameson to finish an impromptu speech she is giving to a group of visiting dignitaries on the lawn. The breeze is brisk off the ocean and Danny can smell rain coming in. He automatically scans the crowd, but everything is calm, the gathering peaceful. Even the Governor’s security team looks bored.

Snow leans against his leg with a sigh and noses his hand. She probably wants to go for a run on the beach. She loves running with Steve and Danny in the mornings. She gives another deep sigh and plops down on her haunches beside him and he scratches her ears. Steve glances over at them and rolls his eyes, then sees his chance as the Governor turns towards the palace and he heads down the steps to meet her. Danny gives a sigh of his own and leans a shoulder against a post and waits.

Suddenly, Snow stands and sniffs the air, with a low, bass rumbling growl, has the hair on Danny’s nape standing up, because that particular growl has always been reserved for the man both she and Danny hate with every fiber of their beings, the Other—Viktor Hesse. Automatically Danny inhales deeply, and yes, he catches the familiar, hated scent of expensive cologne, tobacco and sweat too. Hesse is somewhere in the crowd, too damned close for comfort. Danny looks to Steve, but he is standing with his back to them, head down, conversing with the Governor. Danny wishes suddenly he had a cell phone, or a comm.

He stands as tall as he can on the top stairs, eyes frantically searching the crowd. If Hesse is here, he won’t be alone. He will have brought someone to do his killing for him, and Danny has no doubt that that is the reason he is in Hawaii—to kill the man who executed his brother, confiscated his fortune and scuttled his tanker.

He scans the crowd closest to Steve, and immediately spots them. Hesse is standing at the back, on the edge of the crowd, a wide brimmed straw hat low over his face, while his gunman sidles closer to Steve, hand in his pocket. Danny bends over Snow and growls a command in her ear and in the next moment they launch themselves into the crowd, Snow’s deep, bass war howl filling the air.

The crowd screams and scatters, exactly as Danny hoped and he dives for the man with the hidden gun, ignoring the security team who now have their guns pointed at him and Snow. He brings the man down with one powerful punch to the throat and leaves him, choking on his own blood, for Steve and Snow, kicking the gun out of the way as he goes. Hesse is already running, like the coward he is, sensing that the game is up.

Danny sprints after him, and he has never felt such exhilaration and anticipation for a kill in his life. He wants to tear this son of a bitch’s throat out with his teeth, he wants to sink his hands into his gut and rip him wide open and watch him die slowly. He wants to make him suffer, like he made Danny and so many others suffer. He wants to make him pay for every second Danny spent in that damned, stinking cage.

Ahead of him, Viktor makes the classic mistake of looking back and stumbles. The next moment, he is hit between the shoulder blades by a snarling blond fury. He screams when he feels Danny’s claws in his shoulders and curls up in a ball to try and protect his belly. Danny flips him over, one hand raised to tear out Hesse’s throat. Danny is seeing everything through a haze of animal rage now and the beast inside him gloats at the easy kill. He dimly hears warning shouts and terrified screams and Steve calling his name, but he ignores them all.

It will be so easy to kill him.

I love you, Danno.

Grace. His Grace. She unfolds in his memory like a rare flower and he stops cold because he is Daniel Jacob Williams and he is not an animal. He is and always will be an officer of the Law. He yanks Viktor up and drags his battered body over and drops him at Steve’s feet and the words are coming, they’re flowing from his lips, hoarse, but audible.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in the court of Law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have stated them to you--asshole?”

Viktor stares up at him, the man he once enslaved, disbelief in his eyes, and nods shakily.

Danny stands back, one hand going up to automatically straighten a nonexistent tie.

He stops, blinks, when he finds a collar instead and turns wide eyes to Steve, who is staring back, the hope and pride shining out of his face for everyone to see.

Danny blinks again as the memories start to flicker through his consciousness—bits and pieces of his forgotten life slotting gently into place in the jagged jigsaw puzzle that is his memory. Not all, but enough. Helplessly, he looks to McGarrett, and Steve is there, reeling him in, holding him close. Steve holds him and leans his forehead against Danny’s and there are tears on those ridiculously long lashes and he smiles and chokes out a sound more sob than laugh, his breath mingling with Danny’s.

Steve’s big hands come up and cup his face and he leans back enough to smile down into Danny’s eyes and Danny knows that tonight is the night.

**********************************

It’s long after dark when they finally make it home. Hesse was summarily sentenced on the spot for attempted murder and slave trading, and the Governor’s Head of Security personally escorted him off to the Executioner. Governor Jameson was profusely grateful (as far as she knew, she had been Hesse’s main target) and the local media pounced on the story. Both Danny and Snow were heroes, It was hours before Steve was finally able to whisk them both away, because the Governor insisted they join her for dinner. Snow scored an enormous T-bone steak and was currently gnawing said bone to splinters at the foot of the stairs.

Steve and Danny lost their shoes the moment they hit the door and fumbled their way up the stairs, dropping articles of clothing as they went. By the time they reached the bedroom Steve had lost his shirts and Danny had stepped out of his loose pants. Now they stood together at the foot of the bed, kissing hungrily, hands clumsy and oddly shy, despite the fact that they have been sleeping together for months.

Steve can’t stop grinning down at that beloved, rugged face. It’s finally happening. Everything Steve has hoped for and dreamed of. His partner is back and about to become something much more. He yanks Danny’s tee over his head and he emerges flushed and deliciously rumpled, blond hair standing on end. Steve can’t resist and bends to kiss that intent face, happily nuzzling along the scarred, stubbled jaw.

When Danny self-consciously brings a hand up to cover his scars, Steve carefully pulls it away. Steve knows exactly how Danny earned every scar on his compact body, he read Hesse’s meticulous records and forced himself to watch the vids he recorded of Danny’s fights. They gave him nightmares and made him ill, but they also filled in so many blank spaces for Steve. Danny earned the scars across his face from a closed cage death match two years ago. Steve intends to kiss every scar on his Danno’s body tonight.

He cups that rough face and tilts Danny’s head up, suddenly hungry for the taste of that wide mouth. Danny makes a small, needy sound and tugs at Steve’s waistband, mumbling ‘off, off’ against Steve’s mouth. Steve fumbles for his belt and drops his pants obediently, wincing at the heavy thud of his sidearm hitting the floor, but too anxious for the feel of warm, golden skin against his to worry about it as he steps out of the puddled cloth.

Steve shivers in anticipation when Danny’s sharp teeth nip along his jaw and throat and he slides his hands down Steve’s bare back, there is a tantalizing prick of razor sharp claws. His knees hit the back of the bed and he sits down abruptly, still clutching at Danny, who pushes aggressively between his thighs, and leans into him, still nipping along Steve’s throat and bare shoulders.

Steve turns his head and seeks Danny’s mouth, he can’t seem to stop kissing him. He sighs into the kiss, his mouth already tingles, feeling hot and swollen. Their lips part with a soft, wet smack and Danny leans his forehead against Steve as they pause, panting softly, to catch their breath. Steve sighs again happily, rubs his nose against Danny’s, and runs his hands up Danny’s hips to hold his trim waist. Danny smells so damned good and tastes even better. He leans back and tugs gently, urging the smaller man to sit astride his thighs.

Danny obeys eagerly, happily nuzzling into Steve’s damp silver-tinged temples, breathing in his scent. He is making tiny purring noises deep in his throat, that he is probably totally unaware of. They kiss again, long deep and wet, tongues tangling and teeth clashing, alternating with gentle nips. They’re both sleek with perspiration now, holding each other tightly, skin sliding sweetly together.

Steve is surprised when Danny suddenly breaks the kiss and gently pulls back. Whining in protest, Steve follows, wanting another kiss. Instead Danny gently touches his fingertips to Steve’s lips and looks him in the eye.

Once he is certain he has Steve’s full attention, Danny holds his eyes with his own and slowly reaches up fumble for the clasp at the nape of his neck and removes his collar. His hands are trembling slightly as he does so, and Steve makes a small inarticulate sound and grabs them with his and presses gentle kisses to Danny’s scarred knuckles. His own eyes are wet and he tries hard to convey his pride and love in the gaze they share.

The collar falls unnoticed to the floor.

*********************************

They lie together afterwards in the wrecked bed, face to face, staring sleepily into each other’s eyes, finally, finally together. Steve gives him that wide, goofy grin that he missed so much when he was taken. They’ve loved twice, each giving himself eagerly to the other. Their lovemaking was nervous and clumsy and Danny knows he was shaking like a leaf when Steve finally covered him like a warm living blanket. He had to hastily reassure his anxious lover that he wasn’t afraid or in pain. Steve’s hands had been shaking too, when he gently prepped Danny with the lubricant.

Now they are tangled together, sticky, sweaty, sated for the moment, and the damp sheets are thoroughly disgusting and it’s the best scent Danny has ever breathed in—his and Steve’s rich male musk combined with sweat in a heady aroma that makes Danny want to purr and stretch like a contented cat. Danny wants to wallow in their mingled scent like a cat in a bed of catnip, wear the scent for days like the finest cologne .

Danny’s mouth is swollen and bruised from Steve’s hungry kisses and his body is languid and aching sweetly from being thoroughly loved. Steve sank his teeth in and sucked a wide, bruised love bite on the nape of Danny’s neck and Danny is smug with the knowledge that McGarrett’s broad shoulders and back now bear livid claw marks. He hopes Steve takes his shirt off tomorrow for everyone to see.

They lie belly to sticky belly, fuzzy legs entwined, one of Steve’s lean thighs tucked between Danny’s and Danny’s ankle tucked around Steve’s calf and sleepily nuzzle each other. Its almost dawn and the birds are already twittering sleepily outside the window. They try hard to stay awake but the golden light of the rising sun spills into the bedroom window and finds them sleeping in each other’s arms, heads on the same pillow.

**********************************

He paces nervously back and forth, stares anxiously at the gate as the people start to trickle in, looking sleepy and travel worn from the night flight from the mainland. He shoots a glance at Steve, who beams an encouraging smile. Suddenly she is there—tall—so tall, all coltish limbs and long, golden brown hair. She looks eagerly around, sees him and Steve, and throws her luggage down and runs into his arms and he snatches her up and swings her around, holding her tight.

All three of them are laughing and crying as they come together in a group hug. Snow barks and prances happily around them, tail wagging furiously.

“Danno! Danno!”

“Monkey.”

 

FINI  
June 4, 2011


End file.
